


to burn (to love)

by stonestars



Category: Inn Between (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Team as Family, and i had to fix that... with a 10k fic, look the fact that there's no fics for this podcast is a crime, sorcerer!meltyre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonestars/pseuds/stonestars
Summary: When Meltyre is born, he cries and the fire in the hearth flickers just a bit brighter.When his father goes to put it out later that night, he swears for a moment that the flames are fighting to stay lit.But they go out, and he brushes it off and goes to bed.Meltyre wakes in the dark and starts to cry.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	to burn (to love)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so emotional over this found family and I love the idea of sorcerer!meltyre. This was written after 2.12 (the game) so canon dies off after there. Shoutout to Ria for being the reason this happened <3

When Meltyre is born, he cries and the fire in the hearth flickers just a bit brighter. 

When his father goes to put it out later that night, he swears for a moment that the flames are fighting to stay lit. 

But they go out, and he brushes it off and goes to bed.

Meltyre wakes in the dark and starts to cry.

\--

Meltyre grows, and the world starts to change to his will.

His magic isn’t strong (not yet), but when he reaches for something he wants it comes to him, and when he imagines things changing, they change.

His favorite is the fire. 

He pulls shapes out of it. A tiny dog made of flame runs around his head, and he laughs as it chases the cat that emerges next. 

His parents never  _ see _ the shapes, but they do notice the strange little flickers of flame that shouldn’t be there and the way he manages to get his hands on things he has no way of reaching. 

They already know he’s special. 

(They hope he’s not dangerous. They love him, and they don’t want him to be hurt.)

\--

Lydda is born in the middle of the day, but no fire flickers to her cries. Meltyre, five years old and curious about his new sister, peers at her with wide eyes. 

“Do you want to hold her?” someone asks, and he nods silently. 

He sits in a chair that is too big for him and she’s placed on his lap, and somehow she still feels small in his arms. Their mother supports her head. “Hi Lydda,” he says to her, “I’m your big brother. I’m gonna take care of you and give you lots of presents, okay?” 

Her arms are swaddled, but he puts a very small stuffed bear on her chest, like the ones he saw in the marketplace a few weeks ago. He had not been holding one before. 

It disappears a few seconds later, and his parents exchange worried looks over his head as he beams down at his new sister. 

\--

It’s when his parents find him entertaining Lydda with little animals made of flames that they finally decide to talk to him about it. His mother gently tells him that fire is dangerous, that he can’t play with it until he’s older. 

Meltyre nods, but he doesn’t understand. Fire has always been his friend, never something that could hurt him. Still, he doesn’t play with it anymore, especially not around Lydda. She’s so small, he doesn’t want to hurt her if it  _ is  _ dangerous. 

He doesn’t want the fire-- his fire, at least-- to hurt  _ anyone,  _ especially her. As he watches Lydda sleep in the soft light of the fireplace, he promises himself that he will never hurt her, or anyone like her, with flames.

\--

By the time Min is born, Meltyre understands his own magic a little better. Most of all, he understands that there aren’t a lot of people like him, who can do magic just by  _ wanting _ . 

So he doesn’t magic up a trinket for her, he just whispers to her that he’s going to become super powerful one day and then he’ll get her everything she’s ever wanted. 

His mother lets him hold Min while Lydda meets her, and he feels his love for the two of them burning in his chest. 

Smoke rises from the ashes in the fireplace, but they’re all too focused on each other to notice. 

\--

Meltyre is nine when he saves his sister’s life.

Lydda is four, and she’s investigating everything on their farm, especially while their parents aren’t looking. 

Meltyre has taken to following her as she explores. He likes to watch her as she wanders from place to place, investigating everything from the large branching tree by the house to the little bugs in the garden. 

She wanders towards their well, carefully peering over the stone walls around it into the darkness below. Meltyre hears her call into it, and giggle to herself as it echoes back. And then--

And then she reaches for the bucket, hanging in the middle of the opening, and he can see her start to lose her balance and tip forward. 

Lydda shouts and Meltyre reaches for her,  _ willing  _ her not to fall.

By the time their mother gets there, Lydda is floating gently a few feet above the well, giggling as she tries to swim around in the air, and Meltyre is still standing with his hand outstretched, staring at his floating sister. 

Lydda grins at their mother, flapping her arms to move a bit closer. “Look at me!” 

“Oh, Lydda.” His mother carefully takes Lydda into her arms and carries her over to him. “Meltyre,” she says gently. “I’ve got her now. You can let go.” 

Meltyre had been holding his breath and he hadn’t even realized. Shakily, he thinks of letting her go, and he can feel whatever magic was there disappear as he breathes out. 

His mother pulls him into a hug, clutching both of them to her chest. 

“Is Lydda okay?” Meltyre asks, suddenly scared. “Did I do something bad?”

“I’m okay!” Lydda says, from the other side of the hug. 

Their mother pulls back, setting Lydda down and putting her hands on the sides of Meltyre’s face. “You did such a good job, Meltyre. Protecting your sisters is always the right thing to do.” 

(If she looks afraid, it is only because she doesn’t want him taken from them because of his powers. She already knows he could never use them to hurt them.)

“Lydda was about to fall,” he explains, as if he needs to. His mother nods. 

“I figured.” She turns to Lydda. “Care to tell me why you were by the well, young lady?”

\--

Seri is born, and Meltyre’s love grows. He watches Lydda, who is as old as he was when she was born, introduce her to herself and Min. “And!” Lydda says, pointing his way. “You have the best big brother in the whole world to keep you safe.”

Meltyre nearly cries. 

\--

One night when Meltyre is ten, and his father is out of the house and his mother and the girls are in the other room, he sits in front of the fire and reaches to pull something out of it for the first time in five years.

It’s like coming home to an old friend, watching the flames move and shift to his will. 

The next morning he tugs on his mother’s skirt and asks her if he’s old enough yet to play with fire again.

She’s quiet for a long moment before she kneels down in front of him. “Do you want to be?”

He nods.

She puts a hand on his head. “Okay, I’ll talk to your father about it. Sound good?”

He nods again, grinning, and heads off to play with Lydda and Min, since Seri’s still too young.

\--

The next evening, his parents tell him that he is old enough. His father takes him to a little fire pit a ways away from the house. He crouches down next to him, looking serious. “You’re only allowed to come here with me, okay? No using fire alone.” 

Meltyre nods, just happy to get the chance to experiment with it. 

His father sits in the dirt a little ways away, watching his son make shapes out of flames and easily play with a roaring fire as the sun sets. 

Meltyre’s powers might not be normal, but in that moment his father has never been more sure that Meltyre is just the same as any other kid. He just wants to have  _ fun. _

He resolves to never let anyone ruin that for him.

\--

The next few years pass relatively peacefully. 

Meltyre helps on the farm and watches over his sisters and practices magic in secret with his father.

It’s hard to deny that Meltyre’s powers are only growing. He’s still in control of them, but sometimes the effects are stronger than he’d anticipated. 

So, at fourteen, his parents sit him down after the girls have gone to bed. 

He’s nervous, and his father can tell, because he puts one hand on Meltyre’s shoulder. “You’re not in trouble,” he says. “We’ve just noticed your…” he searches for the right word. “Your powers are getting stronger, recently. So we were thinking…” 

“Do you want to learn magic from a proper circle?” his mother asks. 

“A proper circle?” Meltyre asks.

His father nods. “There’s one near here, the Order of the Greenish Fire. They’d take you in on scholarship, if you want.”

“ _ Only _ if you want,” his mother adds hastily. “We don’t want you to go if you don’t want to.”

Meltyre sits quietly for a moment, thinking. He knows that going would be a great opportunity for him, and would probably mean he could help take care of his family better when he graduated. But still… “Would I have to leave?” he asks. 

“You’d have to travel there to study, yes,” his mother answers. “But you could always come home to visit, and leave if you didn’t like it.”

“If I became a Master it would mean I could help take care of Lydda and Min and Seri, right?” 

His parents exchange a look he can’t quite read. “Yes,” his father finally says. “But we only want you to go if  _ you  _ want to go.”

Meltyre nods. “Okay,” he says. “When would I have to choose?”

“You turn fifteen in a couple weeks,” his mother says. “That’s when you’d start, if you want to.” 

“Can I think about it?” Meltyre asks, and they nod.

He spends a lot of the next day watching his sisters. 

He tells himself it’s because he’s still debating whether or not to go, but he knows deep down he’s already made up his mind.

He  _ wants  _ to go, to learn about magic, to be able to do more. And he wants to be able to take care of his family, to help his parents and give his sisters an even brighter future. 

When he tells his parents that evening, they smile like they already knew. 

\--

“But do you  _ haveeeee _ to go?” Seri whines, arms wrapped around his leg. Meltyre stands next to their father’s cart, unable to get in because of her weight. 

“He has to so he can go get super strong, remember?” Lydda says, but Meltyre can tell she doesn’t like it either. 

He bends down and holds out his arms, offering all of them a hug. Seri launches herself into his chest, making him cough a bit, and Min’s quick to follow. Lydda joins in behind them.

He holds them tightly, aware he won’t see them again for a while. “I love you guys, okay?” he says, finally pulling back. “Take care of each other, and--” he looks at Seri, ruffling her hair “--make sure to only get into the good kinds of trouble, okay? Don’t cause too many problems for Mom.” 

“We won’t!” Seri says with a giggle.

“And you’ll write us letters, right?” Min asks.

“I promise,” Meltyre says. 

“And bring us back presents?” Seri adds.

Meltyre laughs softly. “That too. But only if you’re good.”

“He’ll bring us presents anyway,” Lydda says in a fake whisper. “He loves us too much not to.” 

“You caught me,” Meltyre says, giving each of them one last proper hug before walking over to give his mother a hug, too.

She holds him tightly-- he’s already taller than her, and she has to reach up to smooth out his hair as he pulls away. “I am already so proud of you,” she says. “Don’t forget that, okay?”

He smiles. “I won’t. And I’ll write a lot, and come to visit.”

\--

The large bag of gold that his father hands over as he drops Meltyre off with the order doesn’t escape Meltyre’s notice. In that moment, he resolves to learn as quickly as he can, to graduate and be able to repay his parents and help his family.

And he  _ learns _ .

He burns through lessons quicker than anyone. As soon as he gets his hands on books that teach him how to  _ channel  _ this power he’s had all his life, he doesn’t stop reading and practicing and trying. 

Magic comes easily for him, but he doesn’t let that stop him from being dedicated to learning. He knows, somewhere deep down, that he’s different from the other students. It’s the little things; they need staffs and wands, he can cast with anything he has on hand. It takes them time, and special materials, to learn new spells, but he learns from leaning over books in the library as the sun sets and then going outside to practice in the darkness.

Fire is always his favorite. 

It comes so easily to him, bursts of flame that he can twist and shape to fit his needs. When they’re learning  _ Fireball _ , it’s a challenge for him to keep his small enough to not draw attention. 

But, he rationalizes, they all have their specialties. Meltyre’s is just… a bit more intense. 

\--

The first time he reads about sorcerers, it’s while researching the other ways people channel magic. He’d started with clerics, then moved on to paladins, and somewhere between finding material on warlocks and druids he found a book on sorcery. 

As he reads about their inherent magic, the magic that comes from their bloodline or their very soul, there’s a weight in his chest.

Because it sounds like him.

But if he’s a sorcerer, then everything he’s worked for has been… pointless. The Order of the Greenish Fire is a  _ wizard  _ circle, and courts don’t hire sorcerers. His parents would be paying them so much, and he’d be spending so much time away from them, for nothing. 

_ No _ , he thinks, and closes the book with a heavy clap. He’s not a sorcerer. He’s a wizard. 

He puts the book back on the shelf and picks up the one on warlocks.

He’s a  _ wizard _ . 

\--

Meltyre is a few months away from becoming a master when his world shatters.

He folds the letter and tucks it away, numbly going through the motions of packing up everything he owns that he can carry. 

His parents are dead, and his sisters are all alone.

And he wasn’t there. 

When he leaves, the candles in his room die without him having to blow them out.

He walks through the night. 

\--

Lydda is waiting when he gets to the farm. She looks so much older than the last time he saw her, and she can’t even say anything when she sees him. She just falls into the hug he offers her and cries. 

He rubs her back, unable to tell her it’s okay, but wanting to comfort her anyway. He knows she must have been trying to be strong, to not cry in front of the other girls. 

“I’m here,” he tells her gently. She sniffs into his shoulder. “I’ll take care of things, okay?”

Even though the sun has just risen, Lydda and Meltyre climb into bed with Seri and Min. The four siblings cling to each other as they sleep.

\--

Meltyre is just barely eighteen, and he’s all his sisters have left to rely on. 

He sells the farm. They all cry as they say goodbye, but they couldn’t take care of it if they tried, and at least he manages to get a good price for it. 

And he finds a finishing school for the girls. 

There are some complications, but once he tells them he’s a member of the Order of the Greenish Fire (which isn’t a lie, he just also doesn’t mention he’s not a master yet), he manages to secure their places.

It’s hard to say goodbye, so hard that it hurts. He tells himself that they’ll be safe here, even as Seri clings to him sobbing and Lydda and Min hold hands tightly as they watch. 

It’s the hardest thing he’s ever done. He promises them that he’ll write letters every night, that he won’t stay away longer than he needs to, that he’ll stay safe.

The safety part is a big one. Min makes him promise, multiple times, that he’ll come back. 

He swears it to each of them. As he hugs them goodbye, he swears it to himself, too.

\--

The candles in the inn’s chandelier burn bright the day Meltyre becomes a member of a reluctant party of five. 

Reluctant, at first. 

They fight a princess-turned-dragon. No one notices when Meltyre bends a burst of flames out of the way of it hurting Sterling.    


Meltyre coughs, and apologizes for how little he could do during that fight.

They decide to break a curse. Meltyre doesn’t tell anyone that it’s far beyond the kind of thing he should be able to do. He just  _ does _ . 

And after… 

After, Tessa has a hard time getting any of the candles keeping the inn lit to stay bright.

Meltyre sits with his friends (and they  _ are  _ his friends, the first ones he’s had in as long as he can remember) and thinks about breaking his promise to his sisters.

The  _ Bone King. _

It’s  _ impossible _ .

(Sterling believes they can do it, somehow. But he also believes that Meltyre is a good wizard. Meltyre doesn’t believe him on either account.)

He thinks of Lydda, of leaving her alone as the oldest to take care of the others. He’s young, but at least he’s an adult; Lydda’s still a kid. And he  _ promised  _ Min and Seri that he’d come back. 

He writes them a letter telling he’ll be a bit longer than expected, and resolves to try to convince the others to run away once they got further away. 

\--

One of the goblins they fight is a warlock, and Meltyre is so focused on stopping the warlock’s fire from burning the others to notice the other goblin swinging at him. 

He vaguely hears Velune shout his name, and he ignores the throbbing pain in his side, swinging his hand out to try to divert the warlock’s fire. 

He does stop it from hurting the others. 

He doesn’t stop it from burning Sterling’s hat.

Which, apparently, is a problem.

Meltyre is bitter about it until Sterling reveals the truth he’s been hiding his whole life. He stops, staring at Sterling.

_ You’re like me _ , he thinks, his breath catching in his throat.

He doesn’t say it.

\--

Days later, that truth is what lets Sterling heal Velune. 

Meltyre isn’t sure how he feels. He’s a wizard  ~~(he’s a sorcerer, too)~~ , so his powers aren’t dependent on a god or the truth. Still, he wonders what would happen if he  _ did  _ tell them.

But then he thinks of his order, of how it was how he got his sisters set up in their finishing school, of how if he admits he’s not a wizard then he’s admitting everything he’s worked for is a lie… 

He pushes the idea of telling them far, far away. 

And then Sterling asks him to help teach him magic.

It’s been so long since Meltyre thought about anything other than wizard magic theory, but he can see the same light in Sterling’s eyes that used to be in his, that still is to some extent.

Sterling  _ wants  _ to learn, and Meltyre can help. 

So they spend time together, after everyone has gone to bed, with Meltyre’s books on magic. 

Sterling keeps complimenting Meltyre’s magic, keeps telling him certain spells look cool and asking if he could do that too. Meltyre quickly offers diversions, trying not to think about how he’s never met anyone who can do magic quite like him. 

“Meltyre?” Sterling asks one night. They’d both been reading from separate books in a comfortable silence, so Meltyre jumps a bit when he speaks. 

“Yeah?”

“What does it  _ feel  _ like?” 

“I… don’t follow.” 

“Your magic. I’ve been trying to learn to do things other than heal, but all I’ve got is that and  _ Detect Magic _ . You use yours to fight, I was wondering what it felt like.”

“It…  _ um _ .” Meltyre doesn’t know why he’s panicking, but he is, just a bit. Because if he explains, it becomes real that casting for him is so different from casting for anyone else. “Paladin magic and Wizard magic is really different, Sterling, I-- I don’t think I can answer that.”

Sterling droops a bit. “No, I guess you can’t.”

“ _ But,”  _ Meltyre offers. “I think I’ve got a grip of how to teach you  _ Sacred Flame,  _ if you’d like.”

Sterling beams, and Meltyre relaxes. 

\--

They get closer, and as much as Meltyre loves them all, he realizes he  _ can’t  _ do this. 

Lydda and Min and Seri need him. He made a promise. 

When he finally tries to run, they catch him, and the flames around the inn flicker as he argues with them. They flare enough that it looks like they might catch the walls on fire, but they don’t. (Meltyre promised himself a long time ago that his fire would never hurt anyone good. He won’t break that promise, even when he feels like he wants to burn the world down.)

He’s so full of anger, so ready to burn, until Fina declares that she cares about them.  _ That’s  _ what makes him stop, what makes the flames in the inn return to their normal brightness. 

Because they  _ care  _ about him, and he cares about them, and suddenly the idea of leaving them behind makes him sick to his stomach. 

How can he  _ choose _ ?

And yet, somehow, he does. 

\--

His choice is unmade for him two days later, when he runs into the king’s guard. 

And, as much as he wants to just burn down their camp and keep going, he knows he can’t. Instead, he stares the captain of the guard down and wills her to consider him a friend, to tell him what he needs to know.

She does.

He nearly crumbles, nearly  _ does  _ just give in to the fire of anger that’s been building in his chest and burn the whole camp down. Somehow, he manages to take a deep breath and ask her another question. 

\--

The fire in his chest hasn’t died down when he gets back to the inn and tells the others what he knows, now.

At least they sympathize. Betty threatens to kill the king the moment he tells them about his sisters, and somehow that makes him feel better. 

But  _ Sterling. _

Sterling keeps talking about  _ honor.  _ About how he’s been given the chance to do the right thing. 

Meltyre knew his perspective on all of this, knew what Sterling thought he should do. He shouldn’t have been surprised.

But it was only a few weeks ago that Meltyre looked at Sterling and saw someone who was  _ like _ him for the first time. And now Sterling’s looking back at him, telling him the best thing to do is abandon his sisters. 

That’s what breaks him. 

When his anger explodes, he reaches for fire. He wants, for one terrible moment, to let the flames pour out of him until this feeling in his chest finally disappears. 

And then the moment passes, and Meltyre summons a  _ Chromatic Orb.  _ Acid still burns, but it doesn’t have a life of its own. 

It does make Sterling listen.

It makes Sterling swear on his life that he’ll get Meltyre back to his sisters. It nearly makes Meltyre cry for the same reason his earlier words made Meltyre snap. 

“You can’t promise that,” he tells Sterling, even though for a second he wonders if he can.

\--

The Bone King burns. 

Meltyre doesn’t get the killing blow, but his fire snakes around the lich like chains, and the Bone King’s body burns to ash when Betty is done with it. 

He’s never felt so relieved to see something burn. 

And then he sees Fina, and he wishes he hadn’t burned the Bone King yet, just so that he could burn him now. 

Betty cries, Sterling looks shattered, Meltyre feels numb, and Velune--

Velune can save her. 

Necromancy is just another kind of magic. Meltyre wonders if he could do it, if he tried. He doesn’t try, because Velune’s there, and they can do it. 

He doesn’t think about what he’d do if they couldn’t.

\--

The fire in Sterling’s drawing room burns bright and warm when Fina takes her first breath in a week. 

Meltyre can’t help but affect it a little. He’s so  _ relieved  _ to hear her voice again, to see her safe. 

For one blissful night, everything is okay.

\--

He gets the news in the morning.

The king is dead, and no one knows about his sisters.

He thinks of them, of his mother telling him to keep them safe, of how he promised them he would be there for them… 

Of how he  _ wasn’t _ .

He feels numb. If the fire inside him was capable of dying, it would be ashes. 

\--

And then, somehow, they’re in his arms again. 

Meltyre feels warmth in his chest for the first time in what feels like ages. Not heat, not anger, but _warmth_. 

He nearly crushes them with a hug, barely able to believe that they’re  _ okay _ .

They’d been through a lot because of him, but they’re there, telling him about it and teasing him. 

When the Princess asks them to go find her aunt, he knows he’d do far more if she asked. 

\--

With his sisters safe in Velune’s church, Meltyre falls into an easy rhythm of traveling with the others. 

The inn is their constant. The Goblin’s Head has become the closest thing they have to a home. 

He almost forgets about not being a master, about his circle altogether. He just doesn’t think about it.

It’s like that, traveling with his friends. They make each other forget things about the world, help remove some of the hardness of it.

And it’s nice. 

\--

They learn about Betty’s clan and all Meltyre can think is  _ oh. _

She had lost everyone, once. When she was his age. 

She had almost lost Fina, too.

Betty calls them her clan, and Meltyre feels that warmth that hasn’t left him since he held his sisters again grow stronger. It grows stronger with purpose, too.

He vows to himself that he will keep them safe, that he won’t let Betty, or any of them, lose anyone else. 

Even if he has to resort to fire. 

\--

And then there’s Elena. 

There’s a burnt, bitter taste in Meltyre’s mouth while she tells the others about how he was such an  _ amazing  _ student. How he was going to be the youngest human master in their history, how no one was quite sure how he could do magic like he could.

She’d never have said that before, when he was still with the Order. That burnt taste in his mouth deepens. She’s only saying these things because he  _ didn’t  _ graduate, because he left and now she can stand clearly above him.

And she doesn’t even  _ understand.  _

The burnt taste doesn’t even disappear when he tells her about his parents, even when she apologizes. 

When she leaves, he realizes why. There’s a lot about his power he hasn’t told the others, and now, with this new knowledge, they call him a genius. 

He  _ isn’t  _ a genius. He worked hard (he had power that didn’t rely on that, too), but he’s no genius. 

He’s just a kid who wants to keep the people he cares about safe. 

And, as they try to make him feel better, he realizes he doesn’t even care about being a master anymore. With them, all that matters is who he is, not who he can say he is. 

He feels more confident in his abilities than he ever has, because he has such a strong desire to  _ use  _ them and to use them to keep his friends safe. 

When he tells them they’re what changed him, he means it.

\--

Velune sees Walritt and the look on their face tells Meltyre who he is before they confirm it. 

He feels those flames clawing at his chest, and he wants to let them go. To burn Walritt for what he represents, for the way Velune’s knuckles are turning white where they clutch their glass. 

But that isn’t what Velune needs. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, once Walritt is gone. 

And they aren’t, but that’s okay, too. 

\--

When the only member of their party who  _ can’t  _ do magic ends up in Meltyre’s body, he can’t help his curiosity.

He knows that the others probably could tap into his magic, because there’s enough overlap between the types of magic for him to instruct them on how to do it.

But  _ Betty? _

If Betty can use his magic, then it really is something that’s just a  _ part  _ of him. 

Whatever that means.

Even if she can do it, he figures, she won’t be able to do more than a cantrip. At least  _ some  _ of his magic comes from the theory of it.

Betty breaks a table.

In the moment, Meltyre is still reeling too much to panic, too much to think about how Fina asks him if he’s a sorcerer. (It helps, too, that he’s in her body and free of that constant fear that sits over him.)

He only panics later, after the others go back up to their rooms and he’s left alone sitting at their replacement table and staring at the broken remains of their old one that have been pushed into one corner.

Which is why he nearly jumps out of his skin when Tessa sets a cup of tea down in front of him. She smiles her apology and sits down in Sterling’s usual seat, her own cup of tea in her hands. 

“I dare say I’m glad that the curse reversed as fast as it did. I don’t think my inn could take more damages.” 

“O--oh.” Meltyre looks down at his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think Betty would be able to do that much.”

“Hmmm.” Tessa takes a sip of her tea.

“She-- she shouldn’t have been able to,” he continues, panic rising a little. “Magic is… it takes  _ learning. _ ”

“Not all magic, I’ve found.”

Meltyre freezes. 

“I thought I might be onto something,” Tessa says. 

“Please don’t tell the others,” Meltyre says with mounting panic. “I--I’m a wizard, Miss Tessa, really. It’s just that my magic…”

“You can be more than one thing. Power doesn’t only come from one place. I’ve seen plenty of people who get their magic from multiple sources.”

“Really?” Meltyre manages to look at her. 

“Why, yes. Clerics who learn arcane arts in their worship of their god, druids who become touched by the fey,” she pauses, carefully watching him. “Wizards whose power doesn’t only come from their studies.”

“But if I’m not just a wizard…”

“Then everything you’ve worked for is for nothing?” She raises an eyebrow at the startled look he gives her. “You haven’t been using that power, have you?”

“No, not… not really. I mean, some? But I only use it to do things that I learned how to do, for the most part. Unless someone’s in danger.”

“Then I wouldn’t call you anything but a wizard. Power doesn’t grow if you ignore it, I’m afraid. More likely it will peter out and die.” Tessa sets her cup aside, sitting back in her chair. In the inn’s dimming firelight, she looks older than Meltyre remembers. “You don’t have to take my advice, but I’ve seen many adventurers come and go through my inn. I’ve spoken to many of them, and lost many who became dear friends.” 

She pauses, watching him carefully. “You have a lot of power, young man. But the more you reject it, the more danger it will pose to those around you. I wouldn’t want to see any of you hurt.”

“That’s-- I wouldn’t  _ hurt  _ them!” 

“No, of course you wouldn’t. But you’re not doing anyone any favors by holding back, either.”

Meltyre pulls his arms around himself, fingers digging into his shoulders. “I know that,” he says, looking down. 

“And if you’re worried about what that lot would say, I wouldn’t be.” 

Meltyre wants to ask her how she could know that, but he realizes suddenly that he knows it too. He chews his lip. “I’ll think about it,” he says. 

“One more piece of advice, if you’ll accept it?” 

Meltyre nods. 

“Power like that does its best with a purpose. Perhaps you should figure out what you want to use it for. But,” she says, standing up and gathering all the cups on the table except for Meltyre’s, “I’m just an old lady with an inn, so maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

He gets the distinct feeling that she  _ does  _ know what she’s talking about. “Thank you, Miss Tessa,” he says, picking his cup of tea back up.

She smiles. “You can leave that on the bar when you’re finished with it. I’m going to bed. You should too, young man.”

“I will,” he says. 

And he does, eventually. But, first, he sits alone in the light of the dying fire in the inn’s fireplace for a while. 

He already knows what he wants to use his powers for. He wants to protect his sisters and his friends, to keep them safe for as long as he can. He’d do whatever it took to stop them from getting hurt.  _ That’s  _ what his magic is for, what it’s been for since he saved Lydda from the well and even from before that. 

Fire burns, but it is also warm. It can hurt, but it can keep people safe, too. 

Meltyre lifts a hand and, for the first time since he joined the Order of the Greenish Fire, a small dog bounds out of the inn’s fireplace and runs in a circle around his head. 

He smiles, just to himself, and carries his teacup over to the bar.

\--

They’re walking through the Wood, and then the next thing Meltyre knows he and Betty are back at the inn.

There’s time missing; something’s fuzzy in his head, and Betty looks as confused as he does. They’re both beaten and bruised. 

Tessa says the others are dead. 

(If he had time to think about it, he might’ve noticed that it didn’t make sense for her to call him young  _ wizard  _ after their recent conversation. But he doesn’t, too wrapped up in everything else she’s saying.)

Betty accepts it, but all Meltyre can think is  _ they can’t be _ .

They can’t be dead, because he promised he’d keep them safe. They can’t be dead, because they’re all strong in their own right.

They can’t be dead, because his clothes don’t smell like smoke, and he refuses to believe he would’ve let them die without doing  _ everything  _ he could to save them. 

He doesn’t know what to think.

He offers to take up necromancy, and the worst part is that even though Betty shoots him down and he drops it, he  _ considers  _ it, thinks back to the creeping thought he’d had when Fina died of if he could. 

“It happened again,” Betty says, broken, and Meltyre breaks a little bit too.

She calls them her clan. She calls them her  _ family.  _

He didn’t realize she thought of them like that. 

He doesn’t know quite what to say, how to comfort her. “I know it’s not ideal, I guess,” he tells her softly, “but I’m still here, okay?” 

Betty tells him that he’s her family too, and he mentions Lydda, and for one moment as Betty manages a soft chuckle it feels like things might be okay. They have each other, they can figure it out, they can get the others back, no matter what it takes.

And then the moment ends. 

With one single letter,  _ everything  _ ends. 

The metal in his mother’s necklace turns hot enough to burn as Meltyre begins to shake. 

He numbly hears Betty asking what happened, and he thinks he manages to answer, but all he can think is that they’re  _ dead _ .

Lydda, Min, and Seri, who he  _ promised  _ to protect, who he only left behind because he thought they were safe, who are everything he had left in the world, are dead. 

They  _ burned _ .

He’d promised to never let his fire hurt them, but they’d burned anyway. 

“It’s not real,” Betty says, but it has to be, because the metal of the necklace is burning into his palm. This is his worst fear, come true, he’s lost almost everyone he’s ever considered his family. 

“It’s not real,” she says again, and suddenly there is no necklace in his palm, and no inn, and Meltyre’s still riding the panic of losing his sisters so hard that he can barely process that she’s right. They’re in the Wood, again, and their friends are there.

He brings Velune, clawing and gasping, back from the depths, and he allows himself to believe that Betty’s right.

He’s still afraid, because how could he  _ not  _ be. (He won’t relax until later, when he gets a letter they sent a week ago, and even then he’s a little afraid until he sees them again.) 

But Fina clings to Betty as she centers herself, and Meltyre knows they’re safe. 

Sterling’s been silent. 

Meltyre reaches for him and he scrambles back. He’s looking at Meltyre, but there’s something in his eyes that tells Meltyre he’s not really  _ seeing  _ him. 

Sterling stares through him with tears in his eyes. “Leave me alone, I failed you,” he says, as if it’s the end of the world for him in the way losing his sisters was for Meltyre.

Meltyre doesn’t look away. He wonders, for half a second, if he’ll be enough to bring Sterling back from this. But he doesn’t have time to be afraid of that; he has to trust Sterling to hear him. (And he does, he trusts him more than he can say.)

So he stares back at Sterling, who still doesn’t see him, and tells him it’s fake. 

Slowly, Sterling’s eyes focus on him. “It’s a lie?” Sterling asks, voice still inches away from breaking. Meltyre nods and holds a hand out to help him up. This time, Sterling doesn’t flinch away. 

Meltyre pulls Sterling to his feet. 

Together, they turn to face the fey that did this to them.

\--

Back at the inn, they sit around their table in silence, still processing what happened. Velune clutches their teacup like it’s their lifeline. Fina and Betty scoot their chairs together and hold hands, keeping each other anchored. Sterling sits back a little further than normal, like he’s afraid of imposing. 

Meltyre is on edge. He hates that he is, the inn is usually their safe space, but it’s hard, after the illusion. He has to remind himself every few minutes that that  _ didn’t  _ happen.

“It wasn’t real,” Betty says suddenly, breaking their silence. 

“I think we all know that,” Velune says.

“Doesn’t make it any less terrible,” Fina adds.

“No, but… Betty’s right,” Sterling says. “It wasn’t real, and we figured it out. We aren’t still stuck there. And now nothing can do that to us again.”

“How do you know?” Meltyre asks, because Sterling sounds so  _ sure  _ and he just doesn’t understand how.

“Because,” Sterling says. “It’s us. We defeated the Bone King, did we not?”

“You’ve always been the one with the most faith in us, Sterling,” Velune says. 

Sterling shrugs. “I guess I just know that we have each other’s backs. I have told you all truths that I thought would turn even my closest allies against me, and we’re still here. We’ve faced a lot more than some woods together. So what if the Wood of Woe is dangerous and knows we’re coming? We’ll take it on.”

“Aw, you really think that highly of us?” Fina asks, with only the slightest hint of teasing. 

Sterling is earnest. “Yes, I do.”

“Well then,” Velune says, “I suppose we can’t fail.”

Meltyre smiles. “Yeah, what’s one super magic wood to us?”

“That’s the spirit, Meltyre,” Fina says. She raises her cup. “To taking on whatever this wood throws at us.”

“To friends,” Sterling says as he raises his.

“To family,” Betty corrects.

They drink.

\--

The Wood of Woe is a dangerous place.

They know this. 

They know what they’re risking, now that the fey know where they are.

They know, but of course they don’t let it stop them.

They move cautiously, but the challenges weigh them down as their quest takes them deeper and deeper into the woods.

“Maybe we should camp,” Meltyre suggests, as he stumbles over another one of the tangled roots. “We’re still far from the next town, and Betty…”

“I’m fine,” Betty insists, like she isn’t currently nursing a large gash across her shoulder that she refuses to let them ‘waste a spell on.’

They’re all low on spells, anyway.

“You’re not fine, sweetheart, you’ve got an open wound on your arm,” Fina says.

“Yeah, and I’m still standing, aren’t I?”

“Perhaps camping is a good idea,” Velune says. “I did take a bit of a bruising from falling, earlier.”

“I thought you liked camping, Betty?” Sterling asks. 

“I do. Not here, though. Don’t trust the woods.” 

“Neither do I,” Meltyre says. “We’ll keep watches, though?” 

“We passed through a clearing about fifteen minutes ago, that could make a good place to rest,” Velune suggests.

“Hm. Alright.” Betty turns quickly enough that Fina almost slams into her. “Let’s go.”

“Just like that?” Sterling asks, though he looks relieved. 

“Meltyre looks like he’s about to collapse where he’s standing,” Betty says.

“Hey! I could make it,” he says, but she’s right. Traveling here takes a lot out of all of them, and sometimes trudging into town is a fight to stay on their feet. 

“Do you need help, Meltyre?” Sterling asks, with earnest concern in his eyes that Meltyre isn’t sure he’ll ever get used to.

“No, I’m… I’m okay. I can make it back.” 

Sterling nods, but Meltyre can’t help but notice that he walks a bit closer on the way back.

It’s not the worst thing, to be cared about. It’s nice. 

Sterling catches Meltyre watching him and smiles at him, a little nervously. Meltyre smiles back, and the way the anxiety leaves Sterling’s face when he does fills him with warmth.

\--

Meltyre wakes up in the middle of Velune’s watch to Fina shaking his shoulder. She puts a finger to her lips as he goes to ask her what’s going on. “Shh, we have company,” she hisses. 

He sits up quickly, immediately looking for any sign of danger. All he sees is Velune staring into the darkness, and Betty having a whispered conversation with Sterling. “Where?” he whispers back.

“Velune spotted an invisible scout. Whoever they were scouting for is bound to come back.”

“Oh,” Meltyre says, suddenly very glad Velune had been on watch. 

The Wood is dark around them. The night is calm.

Meltyre realizes with a sinking feeling that it’s early enough in the night that his magic is still depleted. He’s not out of spells, but it’s not ideal.

“The scout went that way,” Velune tells them quietly. “They may not come back, but I… risking it did not seem smart.”

“No, you did the right thing waking us, Friar. An ambush is never good, but to be attacked while sleeping is dangerous.” Sterling puts a reassuring hand on their shoulder, his eyes searching the darkness at the edge of the clearing as well. 

“This way we’re ready for them,” Betty says. 

They watch. They wait.

Nothing comes.

Eventually, they have to give in and go to sleep. They take watches of two, and sleep closer together than before. 

None of them sleep well.

\--

“Gods, I can’t wait to get back to the inn,” Fina says as darkness settles over the forest after the next day of travelling. “I never thought I’d miss these shady towns and their shady residents.”

“You miss the inn. That doesn’t depend on the town,” Betty points out.

“Yeah, but I think at this point I’d be relieved even if we  _ weren’t  _ going to go somewhere familiar. Just to get out of these woods.” She kicks a root.

“At least we’re on the right path, now” Meltyre offers. “The next town is actually closer than it was yesterday. I think we should be there in an hour or two.”

“Still, we should be careful,” Sterling reminds them. “We still haven’t seen any sign of danger today.”

“I’m pretty sure no danger is a  _ good  _ thing,” Fina shoots back. 

“Not here,” Velune says. “We still haven’t seen any sign of that scout I saw.” 

“Are you sure you saw them, Velune?” Meltyre asks. 

“Pretty sure. They came very close to the camp, I’m assuming because they thought they were hidden.”

“Well,” Fina says, “they didn’t expect you, now did they?”

“I’m pretty sure no one expects someone like them. Truesight isn’t that common, and spells that grant it usually only last an hour or so,” Meltyre points out.

“There are spells that grant truesight?” Sterling asks. 

“Yeah, but they’re higher level than anything I could do, I think. I’m not… sure, though. I haven’t tried in a while.” 

Sterling droops a bit. “I see.”

“I could… look into it? See if we could figure out how to do it together?” Meltyre offers. “Seeing invisibility is a little bit easier than granting truesight. We could probably manage that?” 

“I’d like that,” Sterling says with a smile. 

“You actually interested in magic theory all of a sudden, Paladon’t?” Fina asks.

“Well, there’s still a lot about magic I don’t understand, of course, but Meltyre does make the theory of it interesting. I never learned before, so I’m glad to have a good teacher.”

“I’m not  _ that  _ good,” Meltyre says. 

“Seriously, Meltyre, you’re still trying to tell us that you aren’t super powerful?” Fina raises an eyebrow as she looks back at him. 

“I’m not though! I mean, sure, I’ve been able to use magic for a long time and yeah, it’s a little different from other people’s, but I’m not… I’m just as strong as you or Velune, when it comes to magic. And I’m only stronger than Sterling because I’ve been studying way longer."

“Your magic felt really strong, when I used it,” Betty says.

Meltyre sighs. “Maybe. But that’s not… I’m not  _ special _ .” 

“You are,” Sterling says quickly. “I couldn’t see another wizard in your place.”

“Yeah, I don’t think we could replace you. You’re stuck with us, kid.” Fina grins at him.

Betty stops in the middle of the clearing they’ve entered just as Meltyre goes to say something. “Something’s here,” she says, voice going low.

“ _ Very  _ perceptive,” says a voice from the trees. 

They ready for a fight.

\--

It goes poorly.

Meltyre has the sneaking suspicion that whoever these people are, they’d been following them for a while. Because they know how to react to every move they make. 

They go for Velune first, and leave Fina and Meltyre desperately trying to cover them and make sure they don’t get more hurt. They surround Sterling so that he can’t get close enough to heal them. Wherever they can, they separate the five of them so they can’t help each other.

And, as much as Meltyre believes in them, they’re losing. 

They manage to regroup, backed into a corner together. Meltyre vaguely hears Velune ask why they’re attacking them.

“Because it’s fun,” a voice from somewhere says.

“Because you came to  _ our  _ home,” another says.

“Because we want to see how long you’ll last.” 

To Meltyre’s left, Sterling helps Betty to her feet and mutters a healing spell under his breath. It’s not much, but at least she’s standing.

Meltyre bites his lip. He thinks about his conversation with Tessa, about the amount of faith they all hold in him for reasons he doesn’t understand. 

To his right, Fina plants her feet in front of Velune, daring anyone to try to hurt them any more. 

If these attackers have been watching them, they know their every move. Which means Meltyre is going to have to do something that they don’t expect. 

He reaches for his fire. 

“Sterling?” Meltyre says, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“I can probably spare a spell, if you give me a moment,” Sterling calls back, a bit strained. 

“No-- no, just… keep the others back, okay?” 

“What do you--”

“ _ Sterling,”  _ Meltyre pleads. 

“Okay.” 

“Good,” he says. “Good.” He takes a deep breath.

There’s a warmth in his chest, and then it builds into a heat, and then it builds into smoke, lifting off his skin into the night air.

Meltyre lets himself be angry.

He lets himself be angry about everything the world has thrown at him, at all of the suffering his friends have had to face, at his sisters not getting to be kids. He lets himself  _ want  _ to burn the world down.

Smoke turns into flames, and Meltyre burns. 

He hears Sterling gasp, hears Fina say his name. He steps towards their attackers, wreathed in a fire he’s been pushing down for so long.

He thinks of his sisters, clinging tightly to him as he hugged them goodbye at the nunnery. Seri, making him swear to bring back cool stories of his adventures (making him swear to come back). Min, teasingly telling him that they might even know magic the next time he sees them ( _ when _ he sees them). Lydda, trying to put on a brave face and smile at him but shaking in his arms when he told her he’d see her soon.

These people will not take him from them. 

Flames snake around them, embers drifting up into the night air to join the stars. Behind him, Sterling and Betty help Velune pull back towards the forest’s edge while Fina watches with wide eyes.

They’ll be safe. He won’t let himself hurt them. 

They’ve saved him so many times, and now he does the same. 

He’s surprised his own friends, of course he’s surprised their attackers. Their carefully crafted strategies turn to ash in the face of his fire.

And

they

burn.

\--

At the edge of the forest, his friends watch. 

“Meltyre’s in there,” Betty says, her voice fragile. 

“Meltyre’s the reason that’s  _ there,”  _ Fina says, awestruck. “It’s-- that doesn’t look like any magic I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve read about something like this,” Velune says. They grunt as they readjust so they can see better. “There are sorcerers whose magic comes from a phoenix.” 

“And they can do things like this?” Fina asks.

“They’re very rare,” Velune says. “I didn’t think they were real.”

“Who  _ cares  _ if they’re real,” Sterling says. “Meltyre, he’s…”

“Probably okay.” Velune tries to sound soothing, but it falls short. “Fire shouldn’t hurt him.”

“Maybe, but it looked like it took him over. What if he’s stuck like that?” Sterling stands, looking towards the fire that’s raging in the clearing. 

“He shouldn’t be. He should be able to control it.” Velune puts a hand to their chest and mutters a prayer, the healing making them a bit stronger. 

“We have to trust him,” Betty says. 

They watch the fire burn, waiting for the flames to die.

\--

Inside, Meltyre is calm.

It’s strange, really.

He knows he should be afraid, knows that he’s let go of a power he’s not sure he can control and that it’s  _ dangerous _ .

He also knows that fire’s never hurt him, and it’s never hurt the people he loves. 

He can feel it when the last of their attackers flees back into the forest, when there’s nothing around him anymore but flames and smoke and charred dirt. 

Some part of him knows he should pull back, knows he  _ could  _ pull it all back to him if he tried. It would listen, if he wanted it to burn out.

But Meltyre is tired. 

He’s tired of being afraid. He’s tired of not knowing if his power is his own or not. 

Right now, there is fire in his eyes and curling off his hair and licking up his arms, but there is none in his chest. The fluttering feeling of his anxieties isn’t  _ gone _ , but it’s quiet, for now. He feels empty, but that doesn't hurt.

His friends are safe.

The world can burn for a little longer.

\--

“Something’s wrong,” Sterling says. 

“We have to  _ trust _ him,” Velune reminds him. 

“No, something’s  _ wrong _ ,” Sterling says. “We could see shapes, before. Those attackers, running away. Now there’s nothing.”

“Meltyre’s in there,” Betty says, pointing to a shifting shadow in the center of the flames.

Sterling takes off his sword, laying it in the dirt next to Velune. He turns back to the fire.

Fina catches his arm. “You can’t walk into a  _ burning fire _ .”

“It’s Meltyre. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“No, but whatever he unleashed might. You don’t know that that’s Meltyre anymore.” 

“What if he’s hurt. What if he needs us to bring him back.”

“What if he hurts  _ you _ ? You matter to us too, you know,” Fina snaps. 

“Fina’s right, Sterling. It is dangerous. I don’t have much magic left to heal you, either,” Velune says.

“I don’t have a  _ death wish _ .” Sterling pulls his arm away from Fina. “I-- I promised, okay? I swore to him that I’d bring him home to his sisters. I can’t abandon him, not without trying.”

Betty puts a hand on Fina’s shoulder, stopping her from arguing. She stares at Sterling, searching. “If the fire hurts you, you come back,” she says. 

“I promise.”

Betty nods. Fina sighs, stepping back. “Bring him back for us, okay?” 

“Here,” Velune says, holding their scarf out to him. “For the smoke.”

“Thank you, Velune,” Sterling says, tying it around his face. “And I will, Fina. I will.”

Sterling turns and walks, without hesitation, into the fire.

\--

The flames part for Sterling.

Of course they do. 

They lick at his boots and rage all around him and the smoke makes his eyes water, but they do not burn him.

He presses forward, the fire closing around behind him.

\--

The others watch him disappear. Betty clutches Fina’s hand like it’s the only thing keeping her here. Velune rubs their holy symbol and whispers a prayer of protection. Fina takes their other hand.

They wait.

\--

Meltyre feels Sterling approach.

Sterling must be an idiot, he thinks, closing his eyes to pull the flames around him back. For him to walk straight into a fire he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, he must be.

That, or he really trusts Meltyre. 

Still, Meltyre doesn’t understand why Sterling  _ would  _ come after him. Sure, Meltyre’s teaching him magic, and sure, Sterling insists on calling Meltyre a good wizard, but that’s  _ Sterling _ . He’d say that to any of them.

He’d probably walk into a fire for any of them, too. 

\--

Sterling raises his arm to shield his face from the flames, and then suddenly there aren’t any more in front of him. 

Instead, there’s Meltyre.

Fire surrounds both of Meltyre’s hands, twisting and climbing up his arms until the flames lick off his shoulders, feeding the fire around them. Lines of flame flow out from where he stands. 

Meltyre turns to look at Sterling.

His eyes are burning too. 

On instinct, Sterling reaches towards him. “Meltyre…”

“I could have hurt you,” Meltyre says, his voice thin as if everything in it had poured out of him. 

“You didn’t,” Sterling says, stepping closer. 

Meltyre smiles sadly. “The others?”

“Waiting by the forest’s edge. We were worried about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Meltyre, you saved our lives. If you hadn’t, there’s no way we could’ve fought them off for much longer.”

“I  _ lied  _ to you.”

“I hid things from you all, too.” Sterling pulls Velune’s scarf away from his face, tucking his hair behind his ears. “You know we don’t care. Come back with me.” 

He reaches towards Meltyre, for hands wreathed in flames that he trust won’t burn him.

“I’m not… gods, I’m not going to stay here,” Meltyre says, pulling away before he can. “I can’t, and I know that. But once I let this go it’s going to be  _ real,  _ Sterling.”

“What is?” 

“ _ This _ .” Meltyre’s gesture makes an arc of flame that lingers in the air above him. “All of this. I’m barely scared, right now. That’s-- that never happens.”

“Betty said you always feel like you’re in danger.”

“And-- and this is  _ proof _ . Proof that my power isn’t just… mine. This isn’t all me, I could never do something like this. I worked so hard, my parents gave up so much, and learning to be a wizard really  _ did  _ mean nothing.” Meltyre stares at Sterling with tears in his eyes that evaporate before they even have the chance to fall. “What do I do with  _ that _ ?”

“I know how you feel.” Sterling raises his shield, the red mark standing out against the metal reflecting the fire. “When I was cast out of my order, I thought everything I had worked for in my life had been for nothing. I told myself it was a test, but I didn’t always believe that. I thought I had nothing.” 

He lowers his shield. “And then I met all of you. And, somehow, despite everything, we stayed together. You helped me do  _ magic,  _ Meltyre. I never thought I would.”

“That-- That was you. Anyone could’ve taught you the theory.”

“Maybe, but I didn’t want to learn from anyone. I wanted to learn from a wizard I respect.”

Meltyre’s hands tighten at his sides. “Stop it!” 

“Meltyre--”

“No. Saying I’m special isn’t going to make me feel any better.”

“That isn’t what I’m trying to do,” Sterling says. “I’m trying to tell you that  _ you’re not alone.  _ You’re not alone. It’s okay to feel the way you do. Being with you all has taught me that.” He reaches for Meltyre’s hand again. “This isn’t something you have to figure out on your own.”

The fire that twists around Sterling’s hand doesn’t burn him. Meltyre doesn’t pull his hand away. 

“Why,” he asks, hoarsely. 

“You’ve saved me in more ways than you know, Meltyre. And I had to trust that you’d let me keep my oath.”

The fire dies from Meltyre’s eyes as he stares back at Sterling. “I told you you couldn’t promise that.”

“But I did. And it’s a promise I intend to keep. Plus, you were going to teach me how to see invisibility, weren’t you?”

Meltyre sniffs. “I said I’d  _ try. _ I still don’t know if I can.”

Sterling smiles. “Let’s go home, Meltyre.”

“Okay,” Meltyre says softly, and lets Sterling lead him back through the dying flames.

\--

Betty nearly crushes both of them in a hug the moment she sees them emerge from the fire. 

“Too tight,” Sterling manages, straining. Meltyre says nothing, just lets himself fall into it.

He shakes in her arms.

“I’m sorry,” he manages, once she finally lets them go. He looks from Betty, to Fina, to Velune. To Sterling. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m-- I’m sorry you were in danger because of me.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as they stare at him. Meltyre feels his anxiety mounting. 

“Are you hurt, Meltyre?” Velune asks, interrupting the silence. “I don’t have much, but I think I could do something for any burns.”

“N--no, I’m… I’m okay. It wouldn’t burn me.” 

“I  _ knew  _ you had something special about you,” Fina says, grinning. “Our Meltyre, taking on a whole  _ army  _ of attackers.”

“It wasn’t an  _ army _ ,” Meltyre says.

Betty shakes her head. “No, it was.”

“It’s a story I’m going to tell forever,” Fina says matter-of-factly. 

“Gods,  _ please _ don’t.” Meltyre hesitates, fidgeting with the hem of his scarf. “Don’t… don’t tell people about this, please?”

“Why not?” Betty asks.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sterling asks. He still hasn’t let go of Meltyre’s hand.

“I… when we get back to the inn? When we’re somewhere safe? I don’t… I don’t like this forest.”

“Neither do I,” Velune says. “Sterling, do you have any magic left? I could make it without it, but it would be much easier if you could soften these wounds a bit.”

“Oh! Yes, of course.” Sterling goes over to help them, and Meltyre is surprised by how much he misses the feeling of Sterling’s hand in his. 

But he doesn’t miss it for long. When Sterling finishes healing Velune, he walks back over and takes Meltyre’s hand with a smile. “To the Goblin’s Head, then?”

Meltyre nods.

The five of them go home.

\--

The inn opens for them like it always does. 

The light is dim inside, just the fireplace and a few candles left burning for light. 

They settle into their normal spots around the table. The others are quiet. Meltyre knows they’re waiting for him to say something, to see where this conversation is going to go.

Nervously, Meltyre looks at Sterling. “Do you need help with your armor?” he asks. 

Sterling looks surprised. “I-- yes, but it’s not necessary--”

“I like to have something to do with my hands,” Meltyre explains quickly. “This isn’t easy to talk about, okay?”

“Okay,” Sterling says softly, moving his chair so that Meltyre can reach. 

Meltyre gets to work on the fastenings of Sterling’s armor, his hands keeping him grounded. “I owe you guys an explanation.”

“Only if you want to give it,” Velune says. “We can leave it until you’re ready to talk about it.”

Meltyre shakes his head. “No, it’s… it’s okay. It might help if you asked questions, though? I don’t know where to start.”

“Have you always been able to do that?” Fina asks.

An easy question, to start. Relatively. “I never tried before. I’ve always done magic, though.”

“Is that why I could use it to break this?” Betty taps the table. 

“I think so.”

“Why have you never used magic like that before, if you’ve always had it?” Fina asks, her voice gentler than he expected.

Meltyre’s hands still for a second. “It was… easier not to. My parents gave the circle a lot, even though I was on scholarship. If-- If I wasn’t learning anything there, if I could’ve done all this without it, then…” He hesitates. “And if I was a wizard, my power was my own, it meant that I’d worked hard and made it happen, you know?”

“You think your magic coming from somewhere else makes it less yours?” Betty asks.

“You could… say that,” Meltyre says. “Not exactly, but… yeah.”

“I’ve never met anyone more interested in magic theory than you, Meltyre,” Velune says. “Not many people can keep up with me on the subject. And that all comes from your learning, does it not?"

“Yeah, just because you’re not the first one to tell a story doesn’t mean you can’t make it your own, you know?” Fina says.

“I… never thought about it that way,” Meltyre says. 

“That’s what we’re here for,” Velune says. 

Meltyre softens. “I’m really glad I could keep you all safe,” he says, smiling at them.

Warmth builds back up in his chest as they all smile back at him.

Somehow, he feels safer than he did inside the flames.

And so,  _ so  _ much less empty. 

\-- 


End file.
